


Lists and Things

by Drazyrohk



Series: RP Drabbles [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Feels, M/M, Pining, RP AU, Sex Talk, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story based on an old RP...</p>
<p>Sure, Swerve thinks Rodimus is hot, but he didn't want Roddy to know that!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DemonsDaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsDaughter/gifts).



> This story is for DemonsDaughter, based on an RP we're doing together! Just a little side thing that happened when no one else was looking. 
> 
> Swerve mentioned he thought Rodimus was hot and Trailcutter suggested he tell the captain as much since Rodimus apparently has a list of all the mechs aboard the ship he's already fragged and is always looking to add more names to it.

Trailcutter had a big mouth. A really big, really stupid, really loud mouth! He was a filthy traitor and he wasn’t even Swerve’s best customer anymore because the big, stupid truck had stopped drinking ages ago and had stopped coming into the bar!

It was all Trailcutter’s fault that Swerve was now in a supply closet, one of the weirdly numerous empty rooms aboard the Lost Light, and it was all Trailcutter’s fault that Swerve wasn’t in the supply closet alone!

The mini wished he could blame Trails for the fact that he had no will power and that he couldn’t say no when something as good as this was offered him. Swerve had tried to deny that what Trailcutter said was true, but looking at the sleek lines and the bright colors that made up Rodimus Prime’s frame, looking at that smug grin that showed too many denta, looking at the way Rodimus leaned down towards him invitingly and spoke for his audials only... 

Yeah, there was no way in the Pit Swerve could pass this up. 

He was sure it was a joke. It was a joke and soon Rodimus was going to be laughing at him. It was all a set up and someone had probably recorded it and they would all be laughing at him soon. There was probably no list of Rodimus Prime’s sexual conquests and it was all just a ruse. He was making a huge fool of himself here.

“Look, I’m really sorry about this.” Rodimus was saying, Swerve looking up at him nervously. “I wish there was a little bit more... ceremony behind this but I’m sort of in a hurry. Do you mind?” 

“Nope. I don’t mind. Supply closets are just fine. It’s fine.” Swerve said, attempting a smile. 

“Normally I wouldn’t count a quickie towards my total...” Rodimus mused, looking around. “Let’s make a deal... cause I’m honestly really charged up right now, let’s do it here in the closet, then I’ll do this properly when all this business with the other ship is over and done with?” 

Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Swerve nodded. “Like a two for one sort of deal? Is that... is that alright with you, sir?” 

“Eyech.” Rodimus crinkled his nose up. “Don’t call me that right now. I don’t like being called that during interfacing.” 

“Right, uh... Roddy?” Swerve glanced at the door, waiting for it to burst open. 

“Roddy’s good. You want to go?” Rodimus asked, gesturing to the door, Swerve looking up at him hurriedly and raising his hands. 

“No! No, I was just, uh...” Twisting his fingers together, Swerve looked away. Rodimus was still grinning at him. “Is this really happening?” 

“Yes.” Rodimus twitched a brow at him, looking a little confused. “I was made to believe this is what you wanted? Me, I mean? Was Trailcutter off the mark?” 

“No.” Swerve said miserably. “I’m just... uh... It’s just that...” 

Rodimus let out a muffled laugh and Swerve squeezed his optics shut. Here it was... the moment of truth. He felt hands on his shoulders and refused to open his optics again, refused to look at that smiling face any longer. 

“Hey Swerve, c’mon. This isn’t a joke. I’m really here, and I’m really horny, and I really do want to frag you!” Rodimus said, patting his face. 

“For your list thing. Your uh... your total.” Swerve said, Rodimus making a soft noise of affirmation. “Just part of your whole conquest thing.” 

“Sure. Is that alright?” Rodimus asked, Swerve ex-venting and finally looking up. Rodimus was kneeling in front of him so they were face to face, and while he was still smiling, there was nothing nasty or malicious about it. 

Like the metallurgist was in any position to turn down an offer like this. Like he had anyone else clamoring to get under his panels. And Rodimus Prime was smoking hot, and experienced! There really should have been no hesitation at all. 

“Where do you want me?” Swerve asked, the hands on his shoulders squeezed affectionately. 

“I want you to show me that the rumors are true. Show me just how good you are with that big mouth of yours.” Rodimus said, a subtle purr in his voice that made Swerve feel all kinds of crazy heat and tightness in his armor. There was a snickt of a panel retracting and Swerve looked down. 

Oh wow. Roddy’s spike sure was just as flashy as the rest of him. Swerve stared for a long moment, then looked up to see Rodimus watching him with appreciation. 

“I’ll do my best.” Swerve said, mustering all the confidence he could.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the heck? Ask and ye shall receive.

Rodimus stood, which put him at convenient sucking height, the very thought of which made Swerve attempt to backpedal. 

Unfortunately, since the closet wasn’t that big, there wasn’t really anywhere for him to go. He got his pedes tangled up in something, started falling over... 

Then Rodimus’ hands were on his shoulders again, keeping him upright, and the captain let out another brief, muffled laugh. 

“You okay?” Rodimus said, Swerve looking up at him with a mortified expression. “I’m serious, Swerve. Are you okay?” 

“Y...yeah.” Swerve vented deeply, shutting his optics tight so he wasn’t staring. “Yeah, yes, I’m good. Just tripped, that’s all. Let’s do this.” 

Rodimus’ hands slid down his arms, then gripped his own gently, Swerve peeking an optic open. His hands looked fat and clumsy tucked into Rodimus’ bright, slender ones. 

“C’mere.” Rodimus tugged, and Swerve followed him while looking down at his feet. The larger mech sat on a metal crate next to a shelf. His fans were on, though not terribly high, and Swerve could feel the heat radiating from the captain’s frame. “Is this alright for now?” 

It was more than alright, it was perfect. Swerve stepped a little closer, putting his hands on the edge of the crate. Rodimus’ parted his legs a little to make more room for the stocky mini bot, and it was much easier to feel the heat the captain’s array was putting off. 

It was time to give himself a pep talk. ‘C’mon Swerve,’ he told himself, ‘you can TOTALLY do this. You’ve done this before, lots of times. You’re good at it too, that’s that they tell you. Just because this is probably the prettiest mech you’ve ever been with and just because he’s really, really, REALLY like, ridiculously out of your league doesn’t mean you can’t do this. You CAN do this. You’re going to do this, and you’re going to do this well and he’s going to love it. Just do it. Just do it... Dooo it. C’mon Swerve, do it already.’

His chubby little hands moved up Rodimus’ rather nice thighs, grabbed Rodimus’ hips and pulled lightly. “Scoot forward.” Swerve heard himself say, hoping it wasn’t as much of a mumble as it sounded. 

Rodimus did as instructed and Swerve knelt in front of him. The captain was giving him an eager, expectant look. Swerve felt another rush of hesitation move through him. 

‘No! Don’t get performance anxiety! You’re doing great, Swerve!’ He shouted inwardly, Swerve venting in deeply and clamping his armor down. 

He almost jumped out of said armor when Rodimus put a hand on his helm, drawing his attention. 

“Look, I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything, alright? You don’t HAVE to suck my spike if you don’t want to.” Rodimus said, looking serious and concerned. “You really seem to be freaking out.” 

“I want to. I want to suck your spike cause it’s a really nice spike and I think the biggest problem I’m having right now is I REALLY want to suck your spike and that’s all kinds of pathetic and desperate, right?” Swerve blurted.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to.” Rodimus said with a blink. “I’m an optimistic guy. I like to go about my day thinking that everyone around me wants to suck my spike.” 

It sounded so completely absurd that Swerve burst out laughing. He clapped his hand over his mouth hurriedly, looking up at Rodimus in alarm, but the larger mech was giving him a fond, playful smirk. His hand was also still resting on Swerve’s head, and it helped guide him in when he uncovered his mouth and leaned down. 

Short fingers circling the base of Rodimus’ length to hold it steady, Swerve got to work. It wasn’t the largest piece he’d ever had the pleasure of having down his intake (sometimes being a mini bot had its advantages, even if you WERE Swerve,) but it was still a pleasant stretch to take more than the head in. 

“Oh frag.” Rodimus said breathlessly. He leaned back a little, jerking his hips forward when Swerve sucked firmly. “Haa! You’re not wasting aaany time, are you?” 

Drawing back and letting the spike slip out of his mouth, Swerve glanced up at Rodimus’ face. “Uh, you said this was a quickie, so I was tryin’ to make it go quick?” He said, the captain making a soft noise of understanding. 

“Yeah. Maybe... I mean, I think we’ve got time. We can let Ultra Magnus handle things for a bit.” Rodimus said, Swerve’s lip wobbling as he returned the larger mech’s smile. 

Taking the flaming red and gold length into his mouth again, Swerve slowed his strokes. Determined now to savor this rare opportunity, he took the larger mech in deep and drew back slowly, tracing every ridge he passed with his glossa. Rodimus was making little eager noises, and Swerve had to put a hand on the captain’s thigh to encourage him to part his legs further because he kept trying to close them around his head. 

“Frag, I am so overdue for this.” Rodimus groaned. “You’re good... you’re so good. Keep it up.” 

Swerve took the spike in as deep as he possibly could, swallowing around it. Pulling back again, he slid his hand along the underside of it and sucked at the tip. 

“Swerve.” The way Rodimus said his name... Swerve didn’t care if he never got paid another credit for any of the work he did on board the Lost Light if he could just hear Rodimus say his name that way again. 

Swerve figured out a rhythm that worked for both of them. He bobbed over Rodimus’ spike, the larger mech lifting his hips into every down stroke and every draw back, his hand now firmly gripping the top of Swerve’s helm or his hood, whichever was easier to reach at the time. 

“Oh frag, Swerve!” Rodimus bucked upwards. “Stop stop stop! W-wait!” 

Swerve could taste how close the captain was now, and he licked away the fluid that beaded at the head of Rodimus’ spike when he pulled free of it again. “Somethin’ wrong?” Swerve asked, hastily wiping his mouth on the back of his hand to clear it of lubricant. 

“Y-yeah...” Rodimus was venting hard, and he leaned away from Swerve. “Yeah, you’re too fragging good at that and I don’t want this... I don’t wanna frag your face, y’know? Can’t be over too soon, we don’t have enough time for a round two.” 

“Okay.” Swerve nodded. “Uh, where do you want me? Am I climbing up there in your lap or leaning over the crate or...?”

“Just gimme a moment.” Rodimus panted. “Normally, I last longer than this, but like I said before, I was pretty charged up coming into this.” 

It made Swerve feel a little better, honestly. He wasn’t going to last long himself, he never did with bigger partners, and if Rodimus blasted off just as fast, he wouldn’t judge Swerve for finishing too soon. 

Rodimus stood up, hooking his hands under Swerve’s arms and lifting him. He was lifted clear off the floor, and he clawed at Rodimus’ shoulders for support, yelping. 

“Legs around my waist, that’s a good mech.” Rodimus said, his cooling fans now running high. He was hot to the touch and venting hard. Swerve figured it had to do with his alt mode... racing frames always ran a little hotter. 

Hooking his legs on Rodimus’ hips, Swerve let the captain press his back into a clear stretch of wall. This was definitely not how he had envisioned them getting down to the main event. He didn’t usually get to FACE his partners, and especially didn’t get to be held up against a wall by them. 

“Gonna open for me? This might be difficult otherwise.” Rodimus said in a teasing tone, Swerve realizing with a jolt that he still had his armor clamped down. 

“S-sorry!” Swerve said, hastily forcing himself to relax. He flared his armor and vented out the hot air that had been building up in his frame, then let his panels slide open. Rodimus let out a soft laugh as he looked down between them and Swerve felt his self consciousness flood back.

“Seriously, your spike is ridiculously cute.” Rodimus shook his head, shifted a bit and then began pushing into Swerve’s valve. 

“Thanks. I like it. It’s a good spike.” Swerve babbled, his head thunking against the wall. “N-not as good as yours though.”

While Rodimus wasn’t the biggest partner he’d taken (or attempted to in some cases,) it had been a long while since Swerve had anyone inside him and the stretch burned a bit.

“Primus, this is gonna be a snug fit.” Rodimus huffed, Swerve mumbling an apology. “Hey, don’t do that, it’s all good. Very good. Good for my ego. S-so good.” Slowly pumping his hips, working a little deeper each time, Rodimus let his optics flutter closed. 

He wasn’t kidding. Swerve clenched around him as he thrust in, Rodimus gasping lightly and picking up his pace. 

“H-hey Roddy?” Swerve murmured, leaning his head back as Rodimus mouthed at his throat. “Y-you can go harder if you’d like... I think that would be okay.” 

“Okay.” Rodimus said, venting hot against his neck. “I’m not gonna last long anyway, might as well go out with a bang.” He punctuated the last word with a firm thrust and Swerve made a horrible squealing noise that only seemed to spur the larger mech on. 

Now that pretty spike was driving into him and Swerve was clinging to Rodimus, fingers digging into his frame as he held on tight. He was talking, he realized, not that it was surprising since talking was what he did best. Rodimus seemed to take the talking as encouragement and was moving so hard and so deep that Swerve would be shocked if he could walk after this was over...

“Oh Primus, Roddy... Roddy! Roddy!!!” Swerve cried, and as Rodimus slammed in one last time and jetted transfluid into his depths, the mini bot overloaded. 

Seizing Rodimus with calipers like steel traps, Swerve’s fingers dug into the captain’s chassis and he screamed. There was no stopping it, and even as he was overcome with the bursts of charge moving through him, Swerve worried that Ultra Magnus was right outside the door and could hear them and they were going to be arrested and put in jail but Rodimus was the captain so he couldn’t go to jail and that left Swerve to take the fall for... for...

“Fraaaag!” Swerve wailed, Rodimus burying his face into the mini bots neck and sinking his denta in. 

As he came down, Rodimus rolled his hips, stroking his still twitching spike in and out of Swerve’s clenching, well lubricated valve. Over sensitized after his climax, Swerve squirmed against him and grunted. 

The captain stilled his hips, though he placed small, biting kisses along the side of Swerve’s neck, his jaw, eventually planting a softer one on the side of the mini bot’s mouth. Swerve turned his head a little, face flushed, and Rodimus kissed him properly. 

Rodimus Prime was kissing him. Rodimus Prime had his glossa in Swerve’s mouth, the same mouth that had, not too long before, been wrapped around Rodimus Prime’s very pretty spike. 

Of course, the ‘optimistic’ captain would enjoy the taste of his own spike, wouldn’t he? The way he was stroking his glossa around the inside of Swerve’s mouth, that had to be the reason for it. And of course, Swerve would be a real jerk not to help him out with that, letting his own glossa tangle with the captain’s with perhaps a touch too much enthusiasm. 

Rodimus pulled away unceremoniously and growled. Swerve froze up, looking at him nervously, but from the distant look in the captain’s optics, he apparently wasn’t the source of Rodimus’ ire. 

“Wow.” Rodimus said with irritation. “Really? Frag, I can’t count on him to be anything a damsel in distress?” 

“Uh... Who?” Swerve asked, Rodimus looking at him and smoothing over his expression. 

“Magnus is in trouble. I gotta go.” Rodimus pressed him harder into the wall. “But I don’t WANT to.” In fact, he was moving his hips again and Swerve decided he really didn’t want him to either. 

“But Mags need you.” Swerve murmured. 

“Yeah, he does.” Letting out a dramatic sigh, Rodimus slipped his semi flaccid spike out of Swerve’s body and lowered him to the floor. Swerve leaned against the wall for support because there was no way his legs were going to carry him anywhere. “Sorry, duty calls and all that. Consider this business officially unfinished though.” 

“Yeah?” Swerve tried not to sound too hopeful. It could still all be a terrible trap, a trick. 

“Wasn’t at my best. If you’re gonna be spreading rumors about me, I want them to be great rumors.” Rodimus grinned at him, grabbing a cloth from a pile on one of the shelves and cleaning himself up. “Do you mind cleaning this place yourself? I’ve gotta go be a hero.” 

Looking around, Swerve nodded. “It’s not any worse than the bar at closing, I think I can handle it.” He said, Rodimus giving him a thumb’s up before opening the door and leaping out into the hallway. 

Before he cleaned up, Swerve had a sit. His head was spinning and he wasn’t entirely sure this was real. Looking down at the mess between his legs, though, he figured it was real enough and wasn’t going to get any easier to tidy up, so he struggled back to his feet. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, being part of a list. Especially since he was pretty sure there weren’t many mechs on that list with extra tics next to their names. He could take at least that much away from all this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a million years but this story won't leave me alone. Here I am, back again, bringing y ou all aboard the feels train!

Round Two had been hastily aborted due to another crisis aboard the ship that was evidently adrift in a sea of troubles. 

Round Two: Part Two had been attempted but a brawl had broken out in the bar and Swerve had regretfully called it off. 

Round Two: The Sequel was on the books. Swerve couldn’t help getting his hopes up despite telling himself not to. It wasn’t healthy to get excited about something that might never happen. He couldn’t lie and say there wasn’t a bit of a bounce in his step as he hurried through the usual closing routine in the bar that night. 

The bounce became a bit less… bouncy when he got a message from Rodimus asking to meet in his hab suite. He had been imagining the dashing captain coming to the bar to escort him, but meeting up there would be good too. Sure, it’d be fine.

He closed up, locked up and trotted down the hall. Passing by Jackpot and Mainframe, he offered a friendly greeting and prayed they wouldn’t want to stop and chat. Luckily, they didn’t seem to notice him, so he was free to continue on.

Rodimus had a hab suite close to the bridge, and tonight it seemed a lot further away than he remembered it being. Swerve hummed softly to himself, glancing around the barren hallway as he approached the captain’s door. 

He hesitated, twisted his fingers together and chewed on his bottom lip. The feeling of ‘is this really happening’ came raging back to the surface. Swerve expected the door to open and for Rodimus to look at him in confusion or even in smug condescension. Worse would be having the door remain closed because Rodimus wasn’t even there. 

He would never know unless he rang the bell. Taking in a slow breath, Swerve ex-vented, steeled his nerves, leaned up on his toes and pressed the entry chime.

Moment of truth. Either this was Round 2: The Reckoning or it was Swerve’s Darkest Hour.

The door opened and Rodimus was there, looking down at him. He didn’t glance up and down the hallway to make sure no one had seen, which Swerve found rather reassuring. He also didn’t usher Swerve in hurriedly. He just smiled that very attractive, incredibly warm smile. 

“Quick.” Rodimus said with a laugh. “Before the ship implodes or Magnus gets kidnapped or something. Let’s do this.” 

“Those are strangely logical things to worry about living on this ship.” Swerve said with a nervous tremor in his voice. 

“Right?” Rodimus said. He stepped aside and Swerve moved into the hab suite. It was decorated as brightly as he expected, considering Rodimus liked things a bit on the garish side. Still, decidedly tasteful. It was also rather tidy, which Swerve hadn’t expected if he was being honest. “Want a drink?” 

A drink. Not straight down to business. Swerve wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Maybe Rodimus was still working on letting him down gently. Or maybe he needed to be drunk to do this?

“Uh, no thank you.” Swerve said hesitantly. 

“Cool. Saves me having to clean glasses. Or embarrassing myself because you’re a bartender and I’m not.” Rodimus said. 

Was that a hint of nervousness in the captain’s field? Or was Swerve just imagining it? 

“So uh. Berth? Sofa? Counter? Floor?” Rodimus asked. “What would you prefer?” 

“I find myself spoiled for choice.” Swerve said with a quick, sheepish grin. “Uh, well… what’s your preference?” 

“I’m not picky.” Rodimus admitted, leaning against the counter. 

“Ah, okay. Hm, gotta… gotta think a moment.” Swerve said. Oh Primus. His cheeks were blazing. He bet they were glowing, they were so hot. This was ridiculous. Was this actually happening? “This hab is a lot bigger than a supply closet.” 

“That it is.” Rodimus nodded in agreement, folding his arms across his chest. “Wanna just uh… start by sitting on the sofa?” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Swerve nodded, moving to the sofa with a bit of relief. This was normal right? This was okay. Nothing weird about it at all. 

Rodimus sat next to him and slung an arm across the back of the sofa. His field was warm, and so was his frame… just like Swerve remembered it. And yes indeed, there was some nervous tension in Rodimus’ field where it touched his own. Swerve had no idea what Rodimus could possibly be worried about. After all, he had a list, didn’t he? He’d done this a dozen times at the very least. 

“I have to admit something.” Rodimus said. That familiar flutter of fear rose up in Swerve, sitting like a lump at the back of his throat. “I’m uh… not really sure what I was planning on doing here tonight. I mean, my processor cooked up lots of things that could have gone down to set the mood right, but I didn’t actually get around to setting any of it up. I just sort of ran around, put things away, swept the floor, paced in circles and the next thing I knew, I was late to go and pick you up.” 

Swerve didn’t mean to sit there and stare at Rodimus in alarmed silence. It just sort of happened, and it kept happening for a minute or so too long if Rodimus’ expression was any indication. 

“So I guess I’m sorry.” Rodimus muttered. “I kind of promised I’d be at my best the second time round and I think I honestly did better in the closet than I’m doing now.” 

“You put a lot of thought into this.” It sounded more like a question than a statement when Swerve said it. 

“Well, yeah. I have-” A reputation to uphold. “- this inherent need to follow through on my promises. It just doesn’t always seem to work out the way it does in my head.” Rodimus said, surprising Swerve once again. 

“If I’m being completely honest, this is still the nicest date I’ve ever been on. If it is a date, of course.” Swerve murmured in reply. 

“It’s a date.” Rodimus said. He was looking at Swerve strangely now. “Just without all the usual date stuff. Like dinner or drinks or music or anything of that sort.” 

“That stuff doesn’t matter that much, does it?” Swerve asked quickly. “Sometimes all a date needs is two people to do it and a place to do it in.” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it a proper date.” Rodimus said, brow arched. “Have you never been wined and dined?” 

“No?” Swerve replied. Warning bells were going off in his head, he had to stop talking. He had to stop this conversation before it went further. 

“That’s really lame.” Rodimus stated bluntly. 

There it was. Like a self fulfilling prophecy. 

Swerve’s face must have fallen because Rodimus immediately raised his hands and waved them in a frantic manner. “Not you! You’re not lame!” He said. “It’s just really lame that no one’s ever taken you out right.” 

“It’s really not though.” Swerve protested. “It’s fine, Roddy, really. It doesn’t bother me.” Except it really did, but he didn’t want to say that out loud. Not right now. Pity was a mood killer. 

“Well, it should.” Rodimus said, and now he was frowning. “I thought… You mean, Skids never I dunno, bought you drinks or anything? Or Teebs? You get along with Teebs really well.” 

“I have never been Trailcutter’s favourite person, I always cut him off too soon back when he was still drinking. And Skids and I are just friends, he buys drinks from me, not for me.” Swerve said. In truth, Swerve and Skids talked a lot only because Swerve could tell him the same funny stories over and over since he always seemed to forget them after a week or so. 

“Well, what about Tailgate?” Rodimus asked in bewilderment. “You two are pretty tight, minibot solidarity and such.” 

“Uh, yeah, Tailgate is not only wildly out of my league, I’m pretty sure Cyclonus would murder anyone who tried.” Swerve said with a wry laugh. “Rodimus, you don’t have to do this. I don’t want-” 

To be pitied. To be mocked. To be reminded of how lonely it was to be Swerve. 

“I just came here to help you scratch an itch. To put another notch in your bedpost. To tick another box. Add to your list.” Swerve muttered as he looked away. “And that’s okay. I don’t mind. I like the attention, no matter what meaning or lack thereof it has. And I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” 

When Rodimus didn’t respond, Swerve looked over at him. The captain was staring at him with a mixture of frustration and guilt on his face. Swerve felt a bit more panic well up in him. Had he offended Rodimus? 

“There’s nothing wrong with having a list. Lots of people have lists for lots of different reasons-” Swerve stammered in an attempt to assuage that guilt Rodimus was displaying. 

“This isn’t about the stupid list, Swerve!” Rodimus blurted out. 

Swerve wasn’t sure which one of them looked more surprised by the statement. He met Roddy’s wide, startled optics and held the gaze in silence. It was a loaded statement, it could mean anything really. Rodimus could be implying it was about repairing the reputation he felt he’d tarnished with a poor performance in the supply closet (even though there was nothing at all poor about that performance.) He could be implying it was in fact a pity frag. He could be treating this like he did his Rodimus Stars. It could mean anything… it could mean nothing.

“It’s not about the list.” Rodimus repeated, a little less firmly this time. 

“Then why am I here?” Swerve asked. 

“I dunno Swerve. Why are you here?” Rodimus replied, hurt flickering through his field and across his faceplates.

“I thought I was here to get laid.” Swerve said with a blush. “Which is a great thought. Especially when you’re the one who was gonna be seeing to it.” 

“So it’s a booty call.” It wasn’t a question really. Rodimus looked increasingly flustered and confused. 

“Isn’t it?” Swerve asked, his voice a touch on the shrill side. “Booty call, pity frag, I don’t know what this is, but I know it was your idea!”

Even more than ever, Swerve felt the need to kick the slag out of Trailcutter. Smother him in his sleep. This was all his fault, and here Swerve was blaming it on Rodimus. It was like some horrible, elaborate prank. 

Rodimus hesitated, then got off the sofa. He scraped a hand down his faceplates, turned his back on Swerve for a moment and went quiet. His spoiler was particularly expressive, alternately flicking upward and drooping down. The hand he didn’t have covering his mouth clenched into a fist or else drummed digits restlessly on his thigh. 

Swerve eased himself towards the edge of the sofa, made to get up. Rodimus glanced over his shoulder at him and lowered his servo. 

“Okay.” Rodimus said softly. “No. This isn’t happening.” 

“That’s fine. I was just gonna go.” Swerve muttered. 

“No.” Rodimus turned to face him and held a hand up. “I mean, it’s not happening like this.” 

“Okay?” Swerve said as he looked up at the captain. 

“We’re not just… I’m gonna ask for one more chance. I wanna get it right.” Rodimus said, hesitantly stepping forward. 

“You don’t have to-” Swerve began. 

“Stop it. Yes I do. Even more now because you keep saying stuff like that.” Rodimus interrupted. “One more chance Swerve.” 

What did that even mean? Why did it even matter to him? What did Rodimus want? 

And who was Swerve to say no and never find out the answers to all his questions?

“Yeah. Okay. One more chance.” Swerve mumbled against his better judgement and averted his optics again. “Sure.”


End file.
